Memories
by Evelyn Briar Black
Summary: Love can drive a person crazy. A love lost can drive a person off the edge. Originally titled "Falling in Love" AU Jane Porter/Kocoum


AN: For all needs and purposes, let's pretend that Jane and Kocoum were in the same time period and Jane went to the States instead of Africa.

This was originally in my multiple one shot collection called "Our Turn" under the name of "Falling in Love" but I've decided that it's unfair to keep people waiting for the collection to be updated when it was doubtful it would be updated any time soon. So I've put them all out into complete separate one shots (or two shots). My Alice/Peter Pan two-shot has been republished as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tarzan or Pocahontas

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Jane looked out her window from her bedroom. The London skyline wasn't as welcoming, or as beautiful as she had originally thought it to be. She remembered when she was a child, when London looked so big and beautiful. Jane never wanted to leave her home for it was the greatest place in the world, and nothing could beat the feeling she got.

But nowadays, she would give anything to leave it. The buildings which first seemed like castles, now seemed like prisons. The beautiful woman and men dressed in their Sunday best didn't look like royalty to her anymore. They were heartless and cold; they would never understand what she had felt.

Jane thought about leaving, going back to where her heart belonged but she couldn't. No one was waiting for her. The person she loved and made her feel alive was gone. She'd never see him again, as much as her heart soared to meet his.

She sighed and closed the curtain over the window. Her body hadn't left the room since arriving about a month ago. Jane lacked any want or need to leave her seclusion.

Her small form collapsed atop her unmade bed and she hid her face into her tear stained pillow. Jane hadn't cried in days, she just couldn't anymore, but the signs seemed to never go away. Her pillow showed the proof of her tears, and the few times she built up the guts to look into the mirror, her eyes held no light, and no hope.

Her father was worried about her. In the beginning, he came to her everyday to try and comfort his daughter, no matter how cruel Jane was to him. Although she knew it wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to do with it, but that didn't help anything. No one seemed to understand.

Jane closed her eyes, and the image came again. When she found him in the river, dead; a gunshot wound in his chest, right through his heart. His long black hair was tangled with weeds. His body was cold and lifeless. She couldn't tell how long he'd been dead, but she knew it couldn't have been long.

For the night previous, he had been more alive than ever before. That was the greatest night of Miss Porter's life. He had left early that morning, not wanting to be discovered missing. She went to him at the clearing that night and that was where she found him, in the river nearby.

Jane opened her eyes again, and shook her head, trying to get rid of the sight.

Clayton did it and he admitted it proudly. That monster boasted about it on the way home, how he had killed the biggest of all savages he had ever seen. He pretended he had no clue about them, but she knew he did. The way he looked at her gave it away; and how he proposed to Jane on the boat ride home.

She told him to go to hell.

And to that day, she barely said another word.

Jane lifted her pale hand, and felt her fingers through her chocolate brown hair. She hadn't washed it in days, but she didn't care. It's not like she had any reason to be presentable. With a sigh, she turned onto her back and looked up at her white ceiling. She closed her eyes, and remembered.

"Jane, what are you doing here?" he questioned, appearing from the trees. Jane couldn't help but look at his brawn form; his russet skin over perfect muscle. That hard chest bare but with two hand prints on each peck and a necklace. His strong legs peaked out of the cloth around his waist. His black hair blew just lightly in the wind.

The young woman sighed, combing her hair with her fingers. "Kocoum, I wanted to see you again," she admitted.

Jane Porter was one of those women that never truly felt nervous. She was confident in herself, what she did, and what she thought. This brave girl would never be exactly sure why Kocoum did this to her, how he made her so nervous and shy at first. How he made her heart beat quicken and thump against her chest like Indian drums.

Kocoum's face held nearly no emotion, and Jane was afraid a moment this may have been a stupid idea. He looked back at his home, which was only mere feet away from them, hidden by trees and brush. They could still both hear the others playing music, children playing games and laughing, all talking in their native language. Jane wished desperately that she could understand.

Suddenly, she saw a hint of something in Kocoum's eyes as he looked back at her. She wasn't sure what the emotion was exactly, but she would settle for concern. He took her delicate hand in his rough fist and edged her to follow him, away from his home.

"We can't be here Jane, they wouldn't understand," Kocoum muttered in perfect English. Jane nodded, even though she was behind him as he walked quickly through the forest brush.

They kept walking with neither a word between them. Jane tried to get a bearing of where they were headed, but was unsuccessful. Despite her degrees and schooling, she was hopeless in this environment. Every tree and every bush looked exactly the same. At least she was with Kocoum, who would never allow her to get lost.

Jane was so unsure. She was unsure of everything she was feeling at the moment. The time she'd spent with him, had brought something out in Jane that she'd never experienced before. She wondered if this was the love that people talked about, or if it was simply just lust; that deadly sin. For the moment, she just couldn't tell. A large part of her brain was trying to convince herself it was just lust. I mean, she hadn't known him long and he was still working on his English. They had yet to have an intelligent conversation, but she always longed to be with him. She longed for him to hold her against his chest, and whisper sweet things into her ear; for him to tell her she was everything to him.

But no, that was ridiculous.

"Jane, you have to be careful."

Jane shook herself out of her daydreams. She'd just realized that they stopped moving, and he was now looking at her, waiting for her to respond.

"What do you mean?" she choked out, unsure of what he meant.

Kocoum shook his head. "Trust… they don't…," he started. There was that look again in his dark eyes, the look Jane couldn't quite describe.

"They don't trust me? Why not?" She wondered.

"You're pale. They try, but they still have trouble after what happened to our brother tribes," Kocoum explained.

She knew she had no reason to be angry, for it was perfectly understandable, but she couldn't help the irritation that built up in her. Her hands clenched at her sides, and she looked up at him menacingly.

"I would never hurt anyone," Jane tried to convince. She knew she wasn't very intimidating, considering the fact she was just a bit over five feet tall.

"I know that," Kocoum told her. Suddenly, her fist unclenched and she felt calmer. She heard that emotion in his voice, that even though she would never admit, she wanted desperately to hear.

"As long as you know, I guess I'm fine," Jane admitted quietly, looking down at the dirt ground.

"Jane?"

She looked up to have her lips captured. Kocoum crashed his warm lips to hers and the surprise was overwhelming. At twenty years old, Jane had never been kissed and had no clue what to do. Her eyes were wide at first, but as she attempted to kiss him back which as much passion as she could give, her green eyes started to shut slowly.

As the two lovers kissed, Jane felt as if she was in a dream; a confusing dream where she had no clue what to do. This wasn't something she could learn in a book, as much as she wished she could. This scholar tried to follow her instincts, but she was so afraid she was lacking. Limply, she wrapped her pale, thin arms around his broad shoulders and pulled her closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Jane couldn't tell if Kocoum was experienced or any good, but to her he could never be any better. Each movement of his lips felt like electricity moving through her body, from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. Jane curled her fingers into his hair as he held her back as she curved closer into him.

Suddenly though, Jane's heaven was disturbed. Kocoum backed away from her, with his lips and his body. Jane was confused, and just stared at him. She worried that she was even worse then what she thought, that maybe he didn't feel what she had felt so strongly. Maybe the kiss was just pity, or he was just curious.

"Did you hear that?" Kocoum asked her, staring over her head.

Jane shook her head. "No, what?"

"Someone saw us."

Jane opened her eyes to be brought back to her room in her London home. Her fingers were knotted in her hair as she stared at white ceiling above her. She'd brought herself back to that afternoon many times. For that was the time her love had really started, and when it had become doomed.

She'd never found out who had saw them like that; to her knowledge neither had Kocoum. She knew deep in her heart that it couldn't have been Clayton. No, Kocoum would have caught him easily, and she probably could have too. It had to have been a native; no one else could have been that quiet and quick.

But what did it matter anyway? Kocoum was dead, her love. She would never see him again.

It really didn't matter, Jane just realized. Even if she did get back at Clayton or found out who it was that saw them, it wouldn't bring Kocoum back. It wouldn't bring anything back; not those long nights, warm kisses, soft words, the true "I love you's". Nothing could bring him back.

Jane sat up from her bed, as a thought suddenly hit her. She wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. It was so obvious; if he couldn't come back to her, why didn't she go to him?

Without much thought, Jane walked back to that large window in her room and opened it. Her hands shook greatly as she held on to the top as climbed onto the ledge. She stood outside the window, her hands pressed against the outside walls, and her feet on the ledge of the window.

It was a three story drop straight to the street below. It was late, meaning no one would see her, as if it mattered. Her entire body shook from fear at the thought of the impact of her fragile body to the ground below.

But it would all be over soon, she tried to convince herself. She'd be in his arms again, she knew it.

She told herself to jump, but her legs wouldn't move. Jane wanted to feel angry, but instead she just felt scared. Next she tried to just walk off the ledge, but she couldn't even get one leg to lift from the ledge.

Jane knew she was hopeless.

With tears in her eyes, she got away from the window and climbed back into her room. What was she thinking? If Kocoum had seen her like this, he…

"I love you Kocoum," she whispered to herself.

With a deep breath, she took her bathrobe from its hanging nail and put it over shoulders. She went to her vanity and tied her hair into a bun, making the grease less noticeable.

With slow steps she walked out the door of her bedroom, and came back to the real world.


End file.
